The utterance of her confession tears at his fragile heart strings, and he wants to beg her to return almost as badly as she wants to do the same to him. But they both bite their tongues, their love transcending selfishness to understand that their individual herds offered something meaningful and special to them. Being torn away from that, for either of them, was unfair. Placing judgment was even less fair, and so Cera buried his face into her mane and tried not to feel the old, weary creak of loneliness in his bones. Cera felt far too old for his years sometimes, despite the contrasting joviality of his disposition. 

"I've missed you too," he confesses softly in return, knowing it's not his place to say anything more lest he make a rash decision. He would give anything for his sister, and Cera is grateful she does not ask him to come with her, because he is unsure if he would be able to deny her. But the Throat is his home. He was born there and if he had his way he would die there. While Ranjiri's departure had ripped something from him, leaving the Throat would tear out a piece just as large. 

The Falls seemed to be treating her well, and Cera chuckled humbly as she claimed her ascension lay in the fact that he had instructed her for so long in the art of creation. "I'm hardly the best," the Prince laughed, too humble to accept the praise but too enamored with his craft to deny he at least had some skill. "Maybe we can collaborate in the future. You must tell me what it's like to work with stone!" Cera longed to know what it was like, but he was also aware that it was an impossible dream. His hooves only belonged in the sand and surf. 

The lightening mood is immediately dragged back down again as Ranjiri tentatively navigates around her words. Midas' name rings in Cera's head as his face goes slack, listening stoically as Ranjiri phrases her question. He can't blame her. The man had been a mystery to her, despite her being his direct progeny unlike Cera. And Cera knew him far better, held memories Ranjiri could never share of the gilded Gallant. But Cera also knew the shadows that he could speak of that would stain his sister's memory of their father, and instinctively desired to protect her from that. But she was an adult, already doubtful, already hurt and wondering. He could not lie just to try and spare her. 

"There are a lot of things I know about Father," he sighs, knowing already the flood of words that are bound to roll of his tongue momentarily. He cannot call him dad, but in this moment does not want to call him Midas either, if only out of respect for all the man had done for him. "But I never understood why he didn't follow your Mother to the Falls. He had been in the Throat as long as I can recall, perhaps with his station he felt unable to leave. And yet, when the wraiths were purged...apparently he did not have such hesitation then." Frail birdlike shoulders shrug alongside a defeated exhalation, for he still could not understand what had driven Midas to become Czar of the newly created Falls. 

"I know he loved you. He visited for you most often, and I begged to see you until he would cave. But your mother..." Cera did not know much of her, despite her presence when he and Hototo had first taken flight. His throat tightens at the memory and he has to turn his head to blink away the sting of tears, clearing his throat softly and hoping she does not ask. The pain still aches. His best friend, his brother, is nothing more than a memory now. "Midas loved Ktulu. But I think it was more complicated than that. You can love someone in so many different ways, Ranjiri. And sometimes it's easier to run, to hide from the truth, than to work past those obstacles for the sake of your love for them." A more cowardly notion, but it was the only other theory Cera had ever been able to form concerning his father's departure and contrasting prior reluctance to move to the Falls with the larger portion of his family. 

Knowing how his sister felt about Rhoa did nothing to ease the brotherly protectiveness that rose like a lion in his breast, but she was an adult. A fine young mare, who was capable of making her own decisions. Even if he envied her them. "Rhoa does not have the shackle of an important role to fill. And his love for you is uncomplicated. That kind of love is hard to come by, but it is what drives him to you regardless of what he may sacrifice." There was a certain, nostalgic fondness that emanated from his heart when remembering Rhoa. The two had been close at one point in time, but those days had faded beneath the sun, twirling away into shards of scattered glances and nodded greetings. 

"But he loved you. Regardless of what made him stay in the Throat, or any problems he may have had with your mother, he loved you. There was never a day he did not talk about you, and I know he would be proud to see you making your way into the world now." Or so he hoped. Cera was only a shoddy medium trying to channel his father's ghost, praying for wisdom and the right words to comfort Ranjiri's conflicted feelings. Subpar at best, in comparison to the real Midas, but he'd do anything to try and lay his sister's fears to rest.